


'Til Death

by eojjeona_p



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Apocalypse, Graphic descriptions, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-War, Rating May Change, Slow To Update, Strangers to Lovers, Swearing, Tags May Change, at least i hope they are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29959581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eojjeona_p/pseuds/eojjeona_p
Summary: The monsters slowly approach them, as if savoring this moment, the moment of absolute terror- and it’s palpable. Perhaps they think flesh tastes better when it’s seasoned with fear.“I’ll take the one on the left, you get the right,” the man simply says as he brandishes his baseball bat, long and sharp nails sticking out in different angles. “I’m Hoshi, by the way.” and Woozi thinks it’s ridiculous to be introducing yourself at a time like this.He does it anyway. “Woozi,” was all he says before shooting at his monster.
Relationships: Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	'Til Death

**Author's Note:**

> hello, soonhoon apocalypse au!!
> 
> updates on this will be pretty slow as im still writing another au (sugar butter flour, check it out if u want hehe) but this idea has been with me for months now and i couldnt resist writing at least a chapter of it. also theres school so yeah- slow updates. sorry about that. 
> 
> i suck at world building so i hope..i did okay with this one.
> 
> anywayssss i hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> ps. i love soonhoon and im apologizing right now for the hell im about to put them through.

Today’s agenda was simple. 

Scavenge for supplies. 

It doesn’t have to be a big raid, there’s no long grocery list that needs to be followed. Just a quick go out, take whatever you can- whatever you _need_ \- and get back inside the bunker. No detours, no side trips. That’s exactly what Woozi planned that day. 

Except- nothing is exactly going as planned as he stands back-to-back with a man he just met. They each face a monster a few metres away from them, _“I’ll take the one on the left, you get the right”_ , the man simply says as he brandishes his baseball bat, long and sharp nails sticking out in different angles. It was a pretty menacing weapon and Woozi was sure it would hurt like a bitch if one of those suckers hit deep. He hears a growl rip from the monsters’ throats and focuses all of his attention on the one in front of him. 

This is nothing new. He’s killed monsters before. Monsters way more dangerous than the one he faced now. He raises his makeshift weapon- a shotgun with half an axe wrapped tightly around it, the blade directly below the muzzle- as they get ready to pounce. 

_Two hours earlier_

Living alone in the city post-war has its perks. No one complains about the messy living quarters or unhealthy habits. No whining about the dwindling resources, how it’s _not enough_. No one whose safety to worry about. Woozi sighs loudly for the nth time that day as he opened one of the last few cans in his stock- tuna. He takes a quick sniff and does not detect anything foul, so he shrugs and pops a small piece of fish in his mouth. He chews on it carefully, savouring the flavor- or what’s left of it- and takes a small swig of the oil inside the can. He does this until the whole can is finished, sparing none of its contents. Yes, living alone definitely has its perks, Woozi thinks as he throws away the empty can. 

But it does have its drawbacks. Woozi stands in front of the shelf where the food is kept and grimly notes that he only has about three more days worth of food before he runs out. _Fuck._ A moment he has always dreaded finally comes and Woozi feels like throwing up the lunch he just ate. But no matter how much he delayed- saved up every single food and only ate in rations- he knew that a day like this would come. A day where he has to venture outside and scavenge. 

He hasn’t gone out in a month. The last raid was a successful one, looting from abandoned houses in a nearby subdivision. He was careful not to enter the ones that were too far from his bunker and took as much as he could carry. But even with his careful and calculated movements, they still came. 

A grabber had nearly killed him that day. Monsters that were human like in form but could not speak. They looked like humans but they were anything but. Instead of a mouth was a slit that ran vertically from where the nose ought to be, down to its chin, and when that god awful hole opens, it unleashes a bunch of tentacles- its _tongues_ . And if that wasn’t enough- those very same tentacles could fucking _extend-_ maybe up to a meter- and grab their victims, pulling and devouring them like snakes eat their prey. Woozi shudders at the memory- a grabber running at him full speed when he was spotted in one of the houses. Getting out and staying alive became two very different things that day. 

He gets ready for another raid, and this time- it’s going to be quick. No grocery list. Nothing big. Just enough for another month’s supply, and maybe if he’s lucky, he could score other supplies. Woozi suits himself up, covering every inch of skin and hair, even going as far as taping the ends of his sleeves by the wrists and ankles to ensure nothing can get in. Radiation can be a bitch to wear off and Woozi’s learned that the hard way before. He straps the empty bag against his back and loads his weapon- a shotgun with an axe head duct taped at the muzzle, a work of art and deserving of every award for its efficacy in keeping him alive. 

Gas mask in place and weapon in hand, Woozi steps out of the bunker quietly. He holds on to his gun tightly as he makes a quick sweep of the street before stepping out. The place is eerily quiet, save for the sound of his footsteps and the occasional rustling of trash. The sky was at its brightest at noon but not as much as it used to before the war, if his memory served him right. The sun would be beating down on everyone by now, making sure that everyone felt its presence with the heat it brought. And it was bright. The hurt-your-eyes kind of bright, especially if you didn’t have an umbrella. Or sunglasses. 

But right now, as Woozi walks past destroyed buildings and barely-standing infrastructures, it looked as if it was only an hour after dawn. Clouds and floating soot or whatever the hell they called it on TV blocked most of the sunlight now. He only had about two hours max before it got dark again. And so Woozi walks faster, searching for any place that could have what he needed. 

Half an hour later, Woozi is walking towards a convenience store at a gas station. The place, surprisingly, is still mostly intact. And by intact, he meant that the roof, door and all four walls were still present. He quickly walks up to it, making careful note of his surroundings. The glass door was smashed and the lock was broken. He steps inside, careful not to step on any of the glass. With no electricity to power the lights, the store is mostly bathed in darkness, the only light source coming from outside. 

He quickly makes his way towards the shelves, which were unsurprisingly empty. Well- mostly empty. He starts taking whatever is left, not caring much about expiry dates or anything. He can worry about that when he’s back in his bunker. Woozi sweeps every single item in the food aisle and starts packing the non-food when he hears a noise. 

In swift motions, the bag is closed and slung against his back, wrapping it tightly around his body. Gun aimed and ready, the young man crouches behind the aisle. The sound of glass cracking against the tiled floor alerts him of where the intruder was. Woozi plants himself firmly and listens intently as the steps become quieter. He’s running out of glass to track until the store becomes utterly quiet. The knowledge of not being alone in the quietness fills him with terror. 

More so when the shadows move. Move in _his_ direction. 

“Fuck,” he swears underneath his breath. He either moves now or fight the oncoming terror. Judging by the shadows, it was definitely one of the humanoid monsters. Woozi could practically hear his heart beating fast and bounce around the walls of his chest as the creature moves closer, indecision rooting him in the spot and when it was about to turn the corner, Woozi raises up his gun at-

A man. 

Fully covered and wearing a gas mask just like Woozi. 

A man who was now holding up his arms in panic, completely surprised to see another human crouching behind the aisles.

“Don’t shoot!” he half whispers and half shouts. Woozi does not lower his gun. “Come on, look at me! I’m not one of- I’m not like _them_.”

And he’s right. Anyone who would take a look at this man would say the same. But that doesn’t comfort Woozi any further. His mind starts to panic and go haywire. What if it’s a new kind of monster? What if- what if it’s an imitator with super enhanced abilities? Or it could be a grabber and the gas mask is just a way to hide its fucking tentacles on its face? Except- grabbers can’t talk. And imitators are supposed to be long-limbed but this one right in front of him is only a few inches taller than he is (okay _more_ _than_ a few inches but Woozi wouldn’t exactly admit that).

“Please, I just- I just need some-” the man gets cut off when they hear heavy footsteps outside. They both duck behind the aisle, facing each other. The low growling and heavy stench of blood tells them that a wild dog- no... _two_ of them- just entered the establishment. 

_Shit._

Woozi curses vehemently in his mind as he realizes the situations he’s in. Of all the monsters that had to stumble inside, it had to be- had to be those _fucking dogs_ . They technically _weren’t_ dogs, but Woozi thinks they used to be. Everything about the four-legged creature was large. From its big bony head to its razor sharp teeth, and the long snout that jutted out in the middle of its stupid face. Its eyes were pure black and beady and had ears that perked up at the slightest sound. It didn’t help that they looked like the absolute bringer of death- and smelled like one too. The awfully strong stench of blood wafted around its body like a perfume. 

And there were two of them inside. 

The man puts his finger against his lips and shushes him and it’s only then he realizes that he was breathing a _little_ too hard. He cranes his neck and sees from the mirror hanging in the corner that there was an open exit near where they were hiding. Woozi points this out to the man and is met with a quick nod. From the mirror they could see the two creatures walking around the aisles, away from them. Silently, they crouched their way towards the next aisle, keeping one eye on the dogs that were sniffing around. _Two more aisles_ , Woozi thinks to himself as he grits his teeth. He takes a small step forward- and knocks over a can of aerosol spray. 

The stranger swears loudly and beelines for the doors but is too late as one of the creatures lands in front of it, blocking their only chance of getting out. He immediately backs away and puts as much distance as he can between him and the monster. The other dog faces Woozi, encircling him, snarling, saliva dripping profusely from its mouth. He starts to back away and collides with the stranger. He barely spares him a glance and keeps his eye on the creature in front of him. Seeing two of these in the area means there’s more. They’re probably the scouts. The ones that are smaller than the rest of the pack and much weaker. But they don’t exactly look small and weak to Woozi right now as they pad their way nearer. The monsters slowly approach them, as if savoring this moment, the moment of absolute terror- and it’s palpable. Perhaps they think flesh tastes better when it’s seasoned with fear. 

“I’ll take the one on the left, you get the right,” the man simply says as he brandishes his baseball bat, long and sharp nails sticking out in different angles. “I’m Hoshi, by the way.” and Woozi thinks it’s ridiculous to be introducing yourself at a time like this. 

He does it anyway. “Woozi,” was all he says before shooting at his monster.

The monster leaps away and starts bounding towards him. Woozi ducks and fires once more, this time the bullet sinks into its snout. In a fit of pain, the creature does not notice Woozi charge and swing the axe down on its right eye. He moves away before one of its paws swings at him. Now with compromised vision on one side, Woozi takes advantage of this and stays in its blindspot, hacking away at its body with every opening he sees. The mutt lunges at the man but he rolls away in time and it crashes against one of the shelves. He watches in horror as it triggers a domino effect on all the other shelves, the noise way too loud for his liking. 

By now, he’s so fucking pissed off. First, his schedule is thrown way off and is only vaguely aware of how much time he’s been up there. Second, if it weren’t for these fucking belliegerent mutts, he’d probably be back in his bunker by now. _Safe._

“Let’s fucking end this.” 

Woozi runs toward the monster and leaps on the fallen shelves, using the momentum to jump, weapon held high in the air as he delivers the final blow to the head. He hears the skull crack and blood sprays everywhere. He’s careful not to get too much of it on his clothes while the mutt lays limp against his feet. He pulls out the axe and thinks the better of it and brings down his weapon a second time for good measure when he hears a scream. 

Hoshi was lying on his back, pinned by the second mutt. His bat was the only thing keeping him from being mauled to death. Woozi rushes forward and swings his weapon hard against the side of its face. The monster stumbles a few feet away with the bat still in its mouth, nails piercing the insides. He wastes no time and aims for the open mouth, shooting once. Twice. The monster, much like its companion, now lays limp on the tiled floor, mouth still wide open. 

“Is it...is it dead?” the other man asks. Woozi gingerly nudges it with the end of his gun, and when it doesn’t move, he approaches it. Hoshi strides forward and pries his bat from its mouth, wiping the slime and blood from the handle. “Thank you, by the way.”

“We need to get out of here,” Woozi says as he peers outside. It’s well past the two hours he’s allotted himself to be outside. The city was quickly turning dark and that spelled trouble for him. _This is really bad._

“I can’t go back to my bunker,” Hoshi blurts out as they headed out. “It took me an hour to find this store, I don’t think I’ll make it back.” and Woozi knows what he’s trying to say. He takes a look at the man, this complete stranger, and back outside. Woozi takes a deep breath and says, “Well you better keep the fuck up then,” with so much hostility- before he starts running. 

Woozi feels his skin starting to itch- from being out too long and from the stranger running alongside him. He thinks that he could take him through a different route, one where he would definitely get lost and Woozi can guiltlessly leave him behind but the darkening sky makes him think otherwise. Silhouettes start moving against the corners, alleyways and forgotten streets. It wouldn’t be long till the monsters started to fully roam the city. He looks around and sees that Hoshi is still by his side. Taking him back to the bunker was textbook insane, according to Woozi. He didn’t know the man- literally just met him- and now he was leading him to the safest place he could find. 

What if he was a killer? Isn’t that a thing people do? Have someone invade your space- by gaining your trust first and once it’s “safe” the rest of the group comes? They’d take over your bunker, raid for supplies or worse, kill you. Admittedly, it was a good tactic- heartless and unethical, yes, but for the sake of living another day? Totally works. If gaining that extra day at the expense of a life was not a bothersome thing, then it wouldn’t be a problem. But Woozi was not about to be on the receiving end of such a ploy. 

The familiar building comes into view as they round the last corner; it spurs the pair to run even faster. The sky was fully dark and the screeches and growls are now filling the city. Woozi could practically see them already. He hears his heart pound even faster as they pass by waking monsters in a darkened alley. They run inside and Woozi leads the way to the stairwell, racing downward to the basement where the bunker was. Their shoes squeaked against the dirty tiles as they continued to run, their laboured breaths getting louder. Woozi should probably be worried about the noise they were making but he doesn’t have the time nor energy to do so until- they come face to face with an imitator. And it was standing right in front of the bunker doors. 

_Fucking hell._

It was a double edged sword, Woozi thinks, to have a bunker in a basement of an abandoned building. For starters, it wasn’t easy to get to- even more so after the various traps Woozi had placed around the vicinity and the stairwells. The building itself didn’t look like it would last another storm but Woozi knew it was sturdy as hell. And if it did collapse, there were tunnels that led him to the sewers. But then, having a bunker in an abandoned building meant that the place had to _look_ abandoned, to ward off any potential monsters or invaders. The bottom floor was cast in total darkness at all times to keep the image of being uninhabited.

Total darkness- where imitators tend to flock and hide. 

Woozi used to rank the monsters he encountered based on how much he hated them. Imitators claimed the second spot. Their long limbs and small brain made their movements slow, some don’t even move at all. They stand in corners, against walls; they hide in shadows and lure their prey by imitating the voices. Their hunt is a sinister game of marco polo- and once the poor fool is within their arm’s reach, they’re caught in a death grip and it’s all over. Woozi does not really know what an imitator looks like up close, and he has absolutely no plans on finding out. All he ever sees are the tall pale monsters huddled in the dark and know when to turn and tune out their “voices”. 

“Shit,” Woozi hisses as the silhouette moves- turns toward the sounds their entrance made. 

“What- oh fuck,” Hoshi whispers. 

“Stay back.” Woozi warned. The pair backed away slowly, against the opposite side of the hallway. If there was one thing that Woozi was thankful for, it’s that imitators were blind, relying heavily on sound. “Move when I say so.” The smaller man lightly taps the edge of his axe on the floor, attracting the monster’s attention.

“What are you doing?” Hoshi whispered, frightened.

“Shut up!” Woozi hissed. “Move.” He nudged the other in the opposite direction as human and monster circled around each other, Woozi leading the monster away from the door. Both of them were breathing heavy, paying great attention to its arms that could swing at them any moment. Woozi and Hoshi did this until their backs were against the door. The stranger took out a small rock from his pocket and tossed it into the far side of the hallway, away from them. They watched it turn its head towards the sound, inclining its head as if deciding whether to follow or not. As the monster slowly turns and starts trudging in that direction, Woozi makes quick work on his door, punching in the code and twisting the knob to let them in. The light and slight hissing made the pair curse as they hurry inside and Woozi pushes the door closed as quick as he can- the loud thud and whirring of mechanisms comforting him. 

It was only then that the two released a breath they have been holding in. Hoshi immediately collapses, sliding down against the wall he was leaning on. He rips off his gas mask, as does Woozi and they both get a glimpse of each other’s faces. Woozi has his hands on his knees, catching his breath; the soreness of his muscles were beginning to spread. When Woozi looked up, he saw Hoshi still sitting, sprawled in front of the disinfecting chamber. He was about to raise his gun when he heard Hoshi chuckle.

“Holy shit.” His body was shaking as waves of laughter rolled out of him. “Didn’t know I could still do something like that.” He looks up at Woozi, who was now looking at him incredulously. “Still have to work on my cardio. Felt like my chest was going to fucking explode.”

Woozi thinks his eyes were tricking him, but when the stranger looked at him, there was a crazed look in his eyes. Or maybe it was the thought of surviving a bunch of near death encounters today. Woozi almost felt like laughing too, but remembered his earlier fears. With his strength regained, he aimed his gun at Hoshi, much like how he did at the store a while ago- but this time, Woozi towered against him. 

“Who are you?”

Hoshi cocked his head to the side, confused. “Didn’t I tell you that already?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hoshi. I know. But who are you?” 

“I don’t think I understand your question,” he says as he shakes his head.

“Are you part of some group? A cult? Are there any others I should be worrying about or do I blow your brains off now?” Woozi glares down at him, finger resting lightly on the trigger. 

Hoshi’s eyes shifted from the barrel to Woozi’s eyes as he answered, hands raised in the air. “I’m alone. I don’t know if you’ll believe me, but I’m telling the truth. I’m not part of- of some group or anything.” 

Woozi does not budge an inch, does not put the gun down as he squints at him, suspicion clouding his vision. There’s a nagging voice in his head screaming “don’t trust him!” over and over while another seemed to reason- _what’s the harm in trusting him?_

“Please- I won’t even stay long, Woozi. It’s Woozi right? I won’t be here long. Just one night, then I’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.” Hoshi pleaded from his spot. “Please.” 

It’s only one night, Woozi thinks. What’s the harm in having him stay for a night? He sighs and slowly lowers the gun. _Fine._ A sigh of relief comes out of Hoshi as the gun is pointed away from him. Woozi reaches out a hand to help the man up and presses a button encased in the wall. The chamber doors open with a hiss. Woozi steps inside and turns to Hoshi.

“Just one night.”

“Yes! Thank you-” 

The doors shut and Woozi feels himself being hosed down. He closed his eyes as he waited for the process to end, a light _ding!_ signalling to him that he was finished. The disinfecting took no less than three minutes and soon, Woozi was stepping out on the other side of the bunker, dry and clean (as possible). He doesn’t set the gun down as he usually would, waiting for Hoshi to step into the bunker. 

When Hoshi steps inside, he looks around in wonder. The place looked just like every standard bunker. Every door was reinforced with a heavy metal door equipped with a sophisticated lock system that required a human’s fingerprints. The living room was turned into a makeshift craft space. A long table was pushed against the corner and was filled with various tools and halfway finished weapons. The floor was littered with papers written with calculations, maps, notes. Lined up next to the table was a row of weapons that looked just like the one Woozi had- a staff with a sharp knife wrapped tightly in one end, an axe made of a chainsaw disc hammered in the middle of a thick wooden handle, a makeshift bayonet- there were so many that Hoshi thought he had walked into an armory.

“You made all of these?” To his surprise, Woozi shook his head.

“Not everything.” 

On the opposite side of the room, a large monitor was mounted on the wall. Underneath it was a table- a console of sorts with complicated wires and buttons spread across it. Two smaller monitors stood at both ends of the table, with one showing views of cameras inside and outside the bunker. A map of the city was flashed on the larger screen with colors that didn’t seem to make sense to Hoshi. He stared at it, fascinated with the technology. 

“This way.” The smaller man said. He turns towards the hallway and signals for Hoshi to follow. Woozi points to an empty room, a single bed in the room and a small box table was all it contained. “You stay here. Keep the door open.” With that, Woozi heads to his own room, just opposite of his and plops down on the bed. He hears Hoshi get settled in the other room. 

The last of the adrenaline started to wear off and Woozi found himself dozing in and out. He sits up, gun on his lap and back against the wall, his right arm slung over a propped up knee; he shakes his head, unwilling to let his guard down with a stranger around. Fighting off sleep, Woozi’s mind lands on Hoshi. He thinks of what happened a few hours ago and tries to decide whether it was all an act or genuine. The thought of being stormed down in the basement, trapped sends enough chills to wake him up. He’s still wary, despite seeing the fear in his eyes when Woozi was deciding whether to take him in or send him back out. People can do anything- whatever it takes- to survive. To live another day. They could project fear and make it seem genuine. Act like somebody else just so they could get what they want. Sometimes he wondered, with all the atrocities that humans have done- before, during, and even after the war- who the real monsters were. 

Woozi’s eyes continued to grow heavy and in a few seconds, sleep took a hold of him.

\---

_“Run!” A piercing scream echoes through the rather empty neighborhood. Someone fires a gun, once twice. The screaming stops only to be replaced by a deep rumbling. The ground starts to shake as the group desperately flees._

_“We have to get out of here, those things-” the words were cut off when a_ fucking _car flies in their direction. Everything happened too fast. Too fast. The car managed to hit three of them at once, the sound of bones cracking and flesh ripping were all that’s left of his companions. It was only when he was pulled roughly when Jihoon realizes that someone was shouting at him, dragging him away. The monster’s silhouette loomed over the bodies that lay at its feet, observing for a few minutes until it turned its attention on him. Jihoon starts running and makes use of his legs with what little strength he has left. He matches the pace set by his remaining companions, who were now both covered in blood. He thinks he does not look any fairer._

 _Cars littered the road and made their escape more difficult. The group takes note of the blocked road and-_ why the fuck is it so foggy here? _They jump on top of a pickup truck and start running on the roofs of the abandoned vehicles without missing the slight shaking of the ground with each step their pursuer takes. Jihoon feels the bubbling panic in the pit of his stomach, threatening to throw up. This isn’t really the time. Fighting back tears, he reloads his rifle as he tries to keep up._

 _They hear_ them _before they see it. Low growls start to surround them, loud wings flapping from above, clicking, and in the faint distance, a voice- wait no,_ voices, _were calling out to them._

Fuck. 

_Jihoon turns to his remaining companions, and one of them reaches out his hand to him. He takes it, holds tightly while not letting go of his gaze. Despite the dire circumstances, a small smile splays on the face of the other._

_“I guess this is it, huh?” Jihoon returns the smile. This is the end. This is_ their _end. There are worse ways to go, he’s sure of it._ But at least, _he thinks,_ at least we’re together in this one. 

_“This is it.”_

_“We go down fighting, a’ight?” the man says as he lets go of his hand, exchanging it for an axe. Jihoon cocks his gun and aims at the fog._

_“Alright lover boys,” his other friend starts, “last one to the bunker is dead meat.” And he smiles. And it’s crazy. Everything that has happened so far is crazy. And that was enough to make Jihoon smile as well._

_“Let’s give ‘em hell,” was the last thing he said as the first monster attacked._

\---

Something’s wrong.

Woozi jolts awake as he sees the whole bunker flooded in red lights. An alarm was sounding in the main room that makes him sprint out of bed. He checks the monitor and sees a warning flashing. Hoshi bounds out of his room, hair still disheveled but with his bat raised and ready. 

“What is it?” 

Woozi says nothing but sighs. “There’s a storm coming. Level 4.” Worry gnaws at him. A storm this big spelled trouble for both of them. It wasn’t a normal storm either. There was no rain, no water to be poured but thick acid that could kill any living thing it lands on. Winds that could blow over cars like they were fucking ping pong balls. And the _dust._ It mixed horribly with the acid and formed a disgusting mud that stuck on everything- walls, floor, even skin. This kind of storm- a storm that could annihilate even monsters, meant that they’d be seeking shelter. Underground.

“Level 4? Shit- that’s bad isn’t it?”

“It’s one of the worst things that could happen, Hoshi-ssi.” 

“What now? We can’t exactly leave.”

“There isn’t much to do but wait.” He sighs. He sees Hoshi set down his bat from his peripheral and hears him snort. Irritation flares inside him. _This isn’t the time to laugh._

“Well, I guess you’ll be stuck with me for a while.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! let me know what you think about it :]


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